Black Heart by Eric Van Lustbader

Author:Eric Van Lustbader
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The woman who stood next to him nodded her head, 'I recognize his voice.'

'You address me in an odd manner, Mr Richter,' Mizo said. He had a disconcerting voice, its sing-song tone as high in pitch as a girl's. 'Since you are a Westerner, perhaps new to the Colony, I will take no offence.' He eyed Tracy. 'However, I believe you owe this lady an apology. I'm afraid you gave her quite a fright last night.' His face registered distaste. 'All this talk of banks and safes.' He shook his great distorted head from side to side. 'I cannot imagine what you thought you were about.'

'If you did not know, I hardly think you would have consented to meet me,' Tracy said evenly. 'In any case the lady has my apologies. I meant only to get through her armoured gate.'

Mizo threw up his hands. 'That is the way of the world, I'm afraid. The more one is in demand, the more one must safeguard against unwarranted intrusion.'

'It's a tough life, all right,' Tracy's voice was edged in sarcasm.

'If you show us your ignorance, young man,' Mizo said somewhat stiffly, 'that is loss of face. But I imagine that particular idea holds no interest for you.' He made a sound low in this throat. 'You Westerners are all alike. American, English, French. It's all the same to me.'

He turned away from Tracy, returned to watching the horse. 'You see that stallion, Mr Richter? He cost me as much money as a score of Hong Kong residents will earn in their lifetimes. And do you know something? He is worth every cent of that. He runs like the wind and he finishes first. That is all he knows.' He turned back to Tracy, his black bead eyes, slits under heavy epicanthic folds, shrewd and sharply observing. 'He is a specialist. That is one of the many reasons why I love him. He is perfection at what he does, a moron in all other matters.' His great mountainous shoulders lifted, fell. 'The world contains few real specialists anymore. Now everyone's a dabbler, spending a matter of months like moths going from one discipline to another.' His head shook again from one side to another. 'That is not my way, Mr Richter, but I perceive that it is yours. I think we have nothing more to say to one another.'

Beyond the slow clockwise clip-clop parade of the thorough-

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